


Stop The World Cause I Wanna

by squishypoet



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Older Noctis, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2017-11-30
Packaged: 2019-02-08 15:20:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12867393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squishypoet/pseuds/squishypoet
Summary: Parties like this—with fancy dresses billowing on rooftops, with red lips contrasting the starry canvas of night, with fingertips clumsily, drunkenly curled around wine glasses—have historically not been Noctis’ style.Noctis x Reader





	Stop The World Cause I Wanna

Parties like this—with fancy dresses billowing on rooftops, with red lips contrasting the starry canvas of night, with fingertips clumsily, drunkenly curled around wine glasses—have historically not been Noctis’ style.

You can remember a time when being around so many strangers would deter Noctis. You can picture, even now, the uncomfortable slant of his pursed lips right before he mumbles some half-baked excuse to slip away in the middle of a profoundly boring conversation. You can picture him with his elbows propped up against some windowsill, eyes trained on the people below scurrying down staircases. It’s how you met—two kids with downcast eyes and hot cheeks, slinking away from a ballroom full of adults to some forgotten corner of the Citadel. All so you could feel the novel burn of cigarettes.

But that was years ago—twenty years in fact. And as you approached forty, you wondered how the time passed so quickly. You wondered how the unyielding stubborn goat of a boy you had met so long ago had blossomed into such a selfless, kind man—and an even better father. The people’s king, Noctis Lucis Caelum, chosen by blood but beloved by all. The man who shrugged the kingly raiment from his shoulders, rolled up his sleeves and rebuilt Insomnia alongside the people.

Today is a celebration for all, for those who have lived in darkness, who have lost everything. Today is the day Insomnia is formally unveiled, where people travel from far and wide, where people return home. You sit on the rooftop of the new Citadel, legs crossed and drink in hand, lit by an aura of blue from the aquarium that stands so proudly behind you. You watch with a happy heart as Noctis mingles with comrades, new and old.

An elderly woman approaches him, eyes twinkling with the familiar mirth of someone who’s been truly touched by another’s selflessness. She takes his hands in hers, fingers curling around his palm with a strength he wouldn’t anticipate her to wield. He’s bashful as she thanks him for some seemingly menial task he helped her with forever ago. His neck reddens and he slips a hand from her grasp to thread through his hair, mumbling a sheepish ‘you’re welcome’.

“He’s really something else now, isn’t he?” Gladio’s gruff voice shakes you from your blatant ogling.

A meek smile splays your mouth and you raise your glass to it. “I fall in love with him more and more every day.”

A hint of a smile tugs at the corner of Gladio’s full lips, but he mentally bats it away like an indignant cat. You chuckle and he furrows his brows. “What’s got you laughing?”

“Nothing,” you say sweetly, mentally flipping through your roledex of all the cheesy romance novels you’ve seen him pouring over. He’s a romantic at heart, but you won’t shame him for it. It’s endearing, and having the support of your friends is something important to you. It just makes you happy that he loves your love, even if he doesn’t always say so.

“If you’d have told me twenty years ago that this pain-in-the-ass kid would end up being the most esteemed king that’s ever stepped foot on this planet, I’d damn-near have a heart attack.” This time, Gladio lets you plainly see his cheeky grin, and you return it in kind.

“Tell me about it,” you agree, eying Noctis as he’s swept up in conversation yet again. He never seems to tire of it anymore. “He was, and still is, willing to sacrifice everything for us. I didn’t expect you all to return when the dawn’s light crept through my window that morning. I’m thankful every day that you did.”

“Speaking of Dawn, how is she?” Ignis pipes up from beside you, and you jump at his sudden appearance. “Sorry to startle you.”

You’re quick to wave him off, relax in your seat again and sip from your glass. “She’s doing great. Took her about an hour to decide that she wanted to just wear jeans and a t-shirt to her friend’s birthday party, but I still managed to make it here on time. Somehow.”

“The joys of parenthood,” Ignis sighs, reflecting on his own toddlers and their zest for life—and all the exhaustion that seems to follow that.

Noctis’ gaze finally meets yours and you flash him a wicked smile that promises he’ll be teased for every embarrassing interaction you’ve witnessed tonight. He politely excuses himself from his current entanglement and moves through the hustle and bustle of the crowd to meet you.

“Your majesty,” Prompto greets him with a deep bow and Noctis replies only with a roll of his eyes.

“Would love to let you razz me for the rest of the night, but I’d also love to have a minute with my wife,” Noctis’ tone is teasing, hands impatiently perched at his hips.

“I’ll give you two, will that suffice?” Ignis’ tone is only half-teasing and Noctis couldn’t be more aware.

“I know, I know. 'Noctis, you musn’t be absent at your own party. Your guests require your attention.’ I gotcha, promise, just gimme some time.”

“Spot on impersonation, Noct, you should perfect that and use it around his kids,” Prompto chuckles. Ignis’ lips press into a firm line and Prompto uses it as an opportunity to slink away from the group and back to the thick of the party, grin playful and drink in hand. “See ya later, guys!”

“Your presence is needed elsewhere. Make it quick,” Ignis reminds Noctis for the umpteenth time. Gladio shoots the pair of you a wink and guides Ignis back into the party, intent on getting his friend to let loose.

You let out a sigh of relief, eyes lowering to Noctis’ clean-shaven jawline. You set your glass down on one of the nearby banquet tables and fuss with the lapels of his stark black suit. Something about seeing him in formalwear has your heartbeat quickening. “I gotta say, babe, it’s gonna take me awhile to get used to the more political side of this job.” Your lips part playfully, teeth peeking out in a little grin. “I’m gonna miss seeing you all dirty and greasy—building things, planting stuff. Rugged.”

Noctis lets out a belly-laugh. “Just say it—you miss the beard.”

It’s your turn to roll your eyes. “I’ll never admit it. That thing constantly scratched the hell outta me.”

A darkness envelops his eyes like dusk, lips curled in a smirk as they ghost the shell of your ear. A part of you leans in, begging to be consumed by his touch, to lap up his words, while the other part of you gapes, terrified by the amount of people that you can see glancing at you from over Noctis’ shoulder. “Funny, you didn’t seem to mind all that much when I was between your thighs.” 

His fingers fall to your hips, thumbs rubbing circles against the exposed skin of your back. You can feel the smugness radiating from him when you shiver at his touch. “Nice dress, by the way. You should wear backless stuff like this more often.”

You nudge him away, annoyed with his teasing and the heat that pools at your cheeks as a result. “Bite me,” you grumble.

“Plenty of time for that in a bit, babe.” He winks at you, his hand the last pleasant touch to leave your skin as he returns to the party.

Your eyes refuse to be torn from his form as you reach down to find your glass and return it to your lips. “After all these years, still reduced to a god damn puddle every time you look at me.”

You feel exhausted after dancing with the boys for what feels like forever and decide to take a break by the aquarium again, entranced by the shimmering grey mackerel that seem to endlessly circle the tank. Slowly but surely, people say their goodbyes to either retire for the night or take the party elsewhere. There are a few stragglers that remain, but with the forecast predicting rain soon, you doubt they’ll be here for long. Noctis finds you again and slumps into a chair, his prior vim and vigor draining to nothing short of exhaustion. You doubt he’ll have the energy to stay up and there’s some part of you that feels sad because of it.

“I hate that I feel this way, but I wish it had just been the two of us up here tonight,” you sigh, frown deepening. “I just—we just…life hasn’t allowed us a moment to breathe, you know? And with Dawn, finding time alone is just hard.”

Noctis’ finger curls underneath your chin and forces your heavy gaze to meet his own. His eyes are searching yours for an answer but when he doesn’t receive it he speaks up, “Hey, did you not have fun tonight?”

You turn from him and are quick to cover your face, embarrassed by the fact that you’re reduced to complaining when the night has been nothing short of amazing. “Don’t get me wrong, Noct, I had a ton of fun. I guess…I just miss you. I miss us, together, like this.”

He pulls you taut against his chest and the familiar scent of him, musky and all his own, seems to calm you instantly. His nails graze your scalp and you lean into his intoxicating touch. “Hey, then let’s enjoy it while we can, huh? C'mere.”

He stands, but that doesn’t seem to snap you from the trance that has you following him to the rooftop railing like a lovesick puppy. You join him in enjoying the aerial view of the city, lit up in all it’s grandeur. “Look, it’s ours again. We made this—all of us, together. You can’t be upset on a night like tonight, not when we’ve worked so hard for this moment.”

Your lips twitch into the beginnings of a smile, and then the rain starts. You look at each other and laughter immediately erupts from both of you. “Looks like you jinxed it, babe. We’ll have to enjoy the view another night.”

Noctis runs a hand through his already damp hair, and you chuckle and prod at the cowlick that refuses to flatten beneath his hand—even in response to the sudden change in weather. “C'mon, don’t laugh at me. I’m trying to figure out what to do now.” Neither of you seem really hurried to leave the rooftop, though, even as everyone else scrambles for cover.

“Hm,” you hum through pressed lips, hand hovering just above your brows to shield you from the rain. Your pretty dress is all wet but you’re feeling carefree beside Noctis, whose own black button-up is desperately clinging to his skin. “We could go jump in some puddles,” you playfully suggest, eyes fixed on Noctis though his gaze is distant, pensive even, as he stares out at Insomnia’s autumn landscape. “We could…curl up and watch a movie! Or…go home and just take in the silence we never get to enjoy anymore.”

That earns a chuckle and a smile from Noctis, and he turns to look at you so tenderly—but there’s an undercurrent to the crest of his curling lips that has your breath stilling in your throat. His head tilts back, arms crossed against his sopping wet shirt, blue eyes eased to slits as he takes you in. “I think I have a better idea.”

Emboldened, you meet Noctis’ predatory gaze with a heavy stare of your own, eyebrows still posed in a question. “Oh? And what might that be?” your voice comes out in a rasp, more husky than you had willed but he relishes in it, tongue peeking out to moisten his lips. You feel a tightness in your chest, a heat propelling you through the chill of the rain.

Ignis runs to offer the both of you a reprieve from the sudden change in weather, umbrellas in hand. “My lady, Your Majesty, please shelter yourself from the cold before you fall ill.”

Noctis’ intensity abates, an airy smile replacing his dark smirk. “Planning on it. Hey, do me a favor?” Ignis nods receptively. “Make sure no one enters the throne room for the rest of the night.”

Ignis smiles…almost knowingly. “I’ll make it so." 

In no time at all, your heels are clacking against the shining marble floors of the throne room. The wind stills as the heavy french doors slam shut behind you with a finality to their echo and the silence that follows.

"You still haven’t told me, you know.” Your voice rings across the hall, up the winding staircase and to the throne. You hear the heavy sound of Noctis’ dress shoes carving a path to you slowly, deliberately. You don’t turn to face him. Your words and thoughts are frozen within you—naked before him as always, your sopping wet dress and jewels hiding nothing from him. “Your idea, I mean—what you plan to do.”

His hands are warm on your shoulders despite the cold, wet shirt pressed against your back and nose finding home at the crook of your neck. You shudder at his touch, at the feel of his nostrils flaring against your skin, calloused fingers slipping down the length of your arms. “I plan to make you feel like a queen—like my queen.”

Your mind screams for him in the deepest reaches of you, but there’s a part of you that you keep at bay—a part of you that’s forgotten what that’s like and that scares you. His tongue laps at the flesh of your neck, lips curling into a kiss and your eyes slide to a close like curtains at nightfall. With a touch, he reminds you that even between the lines of duty and responsibility and parenthood you’re still two people in love—still those two teenagers sneaking cigarettes in some forgotten hall of the Citadel.

“I’ve missed that feeling,” you admit as his gentle hand tugs your head to the side, allowing the crossing of his mouth to your ear, where he worries your lobe between his teeth.

“So have I,” he releases a husky sigh all for you and the sound alone is enough to send goosebumps across your skin. The scrape of his fingernails against your scalp as his grip tightens is the first thing that parts your lips and tears a soft moan from you. The second is the sting of his teeth biting into the flesh of your neck that has your head tilting back.

You turn to face him and there’s something telling in Noctis’ smile, in the lazy slant of his lips from which your name so readily spills. You’re already wrapped around his finger, with your deepened cheeks and half-lidded eyes and he knows it. His hands rise to the crisscrossed straps of your dress. Swirling steely blue eyes flicker to meet yours and your breath hitches. He pauses, only long enough to capture your gaze, and then he guides the fabric down the slope of your shoulders, to the dip of your hips, and leaves it to bunch at your feet.

He makes his way back up slowly, with his eyes and fingers and tongue focused on drinking you in—a nip to the thigh, a rough thumb ghosting over a peaked nipple with his eyes never leaving yours. You begin to ease into his touch a little more, daring fingers finding purchase in the soft waves of his black hair and you let him wash over you like a hazy fog. “You’re so beautiful.” His voice is soft, breathy, like the wispy edges of clouds—and the way he says it makes you feel like a truer statement has never been spoken. You’re glowing.

“And you’re a goddamned masterpiece,” you murmur, earning a chuckle from Noctis that sets fluttering wings free against your ribcage. And then you’re hoisted up into his arms, his fingers digging into your bare ass as you wrap your legs around him to keep yourself afloat. You take a turn playing with his neck this time, confidence blooming at your breast as you nibble his earlobe and lower your head to steal his lips in a kiss. His starved mouth meets you with a fervor you weren’t quite expecting for all his gentleness and his unhurried pace.

You can feel yourself being moved but you can’t be bothered with where until your ass hits the cool leather of the throne. Noctis kneels before you, eyes just as hungry as his mouth as he parts your legs at the knee. “I feel like it’s been too long since I last tasted you.” You’re snapped from your blissful haze as the crook of Noctis’ arms hook beneath your legs and drag you forward—so, so close to his smirking lips. “Too long since I’ve watched you fall apart at my touch.” His calloused hands guide your legs over the armrests, spreading you wide and open, exposing you at your very core.

Noctis’ hands slide along the underside of your thighs, and he throws you a cheeky grin—a grin so reminiscent of your halcyon days that your heart begins ferociously pounding in your chest. Your toes curl in anticipation of him as his fingers scoop underneath you and his nails bite the sensitive skin of your ass. The way he looks at you before he delves lower, with his eyes glistening something dark and primal is enough to have you gasping before he even samples the juices that you so readily supply for him. “Don’t worry, I won’t waste a drop.” You feel his smirk—the shaky, self-satisfied chuckle that leaves him even as his tongue is parting you and flattening against your most receptive bundle of nerves. You sigh, a visible release of all your tension and worries and ponderances as his tongue makes a slow drag up and up and up.

His pace is steady and deliberate—he’s sure of himself and his ability to bring your walls crashing down around his fingertips. He dare not blink and miss the tremble of your thighs, the conflicted sway of your head and roll of your eyes as he slides a finger—two, three—into your slickness. He continues to roll his tongue against you, savoring your taste and your musk and the way you tighten your fingers in his hair when he sucks you until you’re too sensitive to play calm. His fingers curl inside you in such a way that you feel the warmth trickling down your thighs like tendrils of sunlight and your release catches you by surprise. A soft cry of Noctis’ name leaves your mouth, your chest rising and falling with the intensity the orgasm you didn’t think you’d reach so quickly. “So fucking beautiful,” he praises, his fingers exiting you only to splay you open so his tongue can lick your sex clean of your orgasm. You shiver at the extended contact, your pussy pounding with the promise of another climax.

Desperate, you grab Noctis by the lapels of his sopping wet jacket and smash his lips to yours. A growl rumbles in his throat and there’s something about it, about him, about the way you taste on his tongue, that has your hand sliding along your breast, down your sweat-glistened stomach to rub at your still-sensitive clit. He parts from you, and you watch with heavy eyes and heavy hand as he shrugs the jacket from his shoulders. His fingers are slow to unbutton his shirt, steely blue eyes scanning you again and again and again until you can see his cock painfully straining against his slacks. You shiver as he palms it through the fabric, free hand rising to his lips to clean you from his fingers, all while he kicks his shoes off. Slowly, with poise, you rise like his queen and slide the shirt that still clings to the muscles of his arms and the ripples of his abs down, down, and leave it forgotten on the floor.

Your fingers tease the hem of his pants and you are quick to drop to your knees, but Noctis catches you by the shoulders and you rise to meet his gaze again. “No—tonight is for you.” His lips kiss from your shoulder to your ear as you unbuckle his belt and bring his bottoms to the ground. The warmth of his breath on your neck and the heat concealed in his silken voice are enough to have you shivering again. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want you to fuck me,” your reply is timid until you feel the twitch of his cock against your thigh. “I want you to fuck me again and again and again—until my cries echo throughout this throne room so loudly that there isn’t a shred of a doubt that I belong to anyone but you.”

A chuckle falls from his swollen lips, so low, sultry and heavy that your cheeks darken in a blush. “Was there ever a doubt?” He guides you, fingers twisted in your hair, back to the throne. You climb on, knees first, as his hands slide down, down your arms and silently urge you to grab the crest railing of the throne. His hands backtrack across your expanse of bare skin, pausing only for a moment to drag his fingertips down your breasts and down, down further to rest at your hips.

“That’s what we’re rectifying, love,” you purr with a teasing wiggle of your hips—taunting him, begging him to fill you to the brim. And he stretches you so splendidly that any hopes of teasing him are ripped from you and replaced with parted lips and pants and fingers desperately clinging to the throne. The delicious drag of his cock into your pussy has you feverishly meeting his thrusts with your head thrown back and eyes eased to a blissful close.

But he stills, cock still sheathed inside you and runs his fingers through your hair. You’re confused, wild and ready to unleash weeks worth of pent up frustrations on him. You crane your neck over your shoulder, coy eyes meeting his and they threaten to swallow you whole. His fingers tighten in your hair, dragging you back and forcing you against him with such force that you clench around his thickness and shiver. He marvels at the beautiful arch he’s made of you before his lips ghost the shell of your ear. “I lead, you follow. And don’t take your eyes off me.” He lets your hair slip from his fingers and you meet his gaze with fire in your eyes.

Something about watching him fuck you, knuckles white on your hips, lip pinched between his teeth, eyes dark and deep and endless like midnight, is breathtaking. The way his eyes flicker up to meet yours through his eyelashes, back and forth, feverish in his need to see all of you—the way you stretch when his cock thrusts into you again and again and again, the furrow of your brow when he angles upwards. He dare not blink and miss the bounce of your breasts in tandem with each thrust. He settles for pressing the still clammy skin of his chest against your back, free hand feeling every twitch and arch and tremor as he plants his lips on your neck once more. He refuses to tear his eyes from your mouth as you cry out for him again, again.

Your swollen lips have never looked so beautiful to him as they do right now, curling and gasping and parting and singing his praises so loudly that they echo across all of the throne room. “Remind them who your king is,” each word punctuated with a thrust that has your thighs trembling, your legs threatening to crumble beneath you. “Tell them who you belong to.”

And you do over and over, until your throat is cracked and your cheeks are hot and your thighs tingle, a precursor of your impending orgasm. But he wants to look at you when you do, watch the blissful haze of climax spread across your skin like a soft, warm blanket. So he drags himself from you and seats you at the edge of the throne again, and cradles the back of your head as it lulls in rapture. His cock slides into you with ease. He studies you carefully, memorizes the way your lips twitch open and a soft moans rolls from the depths of you when he picks up the pace. Your volume matches his speed, climbing until you hit a peak and your voice cracks and body shakes with the intensity of each wave of your orgasm.

He is desperate to follow you, nails scraping, satisfied grunts and moans and furrowed eyebrows, a tinge of pink to his cheeks. You cling to him, the thin sheen of sweat between you making it so easy for him to slide against your body. There’s no better feeling than the hardness of his chest pressed against you, pecs twitching, arms flexing as he pulls you impossibly closer to him. The twitch of his cock as he spills his orgasm into you sends you reeling again, clenching around him even through his climax and the sensitivity of it all has him shaking against you, arms and legs begging reprieve from supporting two bodies. He says your name so many times that you’ve lost count, still cradles your head in his hand, peppers your face and your neck and breasts with hot kisses that kindle an insatiable heat inside you. “You’re goddamn perfect, more beautiful every time I look at you—my queen, my love.”

He comically collapses on the floor with a soft chuckle and a satisfied grin. You watch him, eyes warm with the boundless love you have for him, and join him in laughter. “That was—”

“Amazing? Astounding? Astonishing? If you want some more descriptors I’d be happy to call up Iggy and we can have him recite them.” You join him on the floor and playfully slap him on the chest.

“Don’t talk about Iggy right now.” He offers a sheepish apology, fingers threading through his hair like always. “I…don’t want this night to end,” you admit, your orgasm having washed over you and left you with a general sense of malaise at your inevitable parting. You’re selfish in your desire to have him all to yourself, to wake up every morning to the sound of your silly girl demanding breakfast and Noctis reluctantly agreeing to make it. But duty calls, and the thought of having to share him with all of Eos…well, it’s not an easy pill to swallow.

“It doesn’t have to, love.” And he reaches out to brush a thumb along your cheek and you lean into his palm, cupping it with your own.

“I’m not letting you go, you know.” He offers a chuckle as a response, eyes bright and mirthful as one hand joins the other in caressing your face.

“I never asked you to. The night doesn’t have to end—not now, not in two hours, or three.” The flickering flame in his eyes almost seems to ignite. “It can end whenever you want it to.”

You flip over, emboldened. You drag your slick body down the length of Noctis’, eyes never tearing from his once. You let your mouth loose around his hips, fingers dragging down, down, to his thighs where your mouth shortly follows. “In that case,” you purr, fingertips tracing everywhere but Noctis’ cock, which is springing to attention far more quickly than you anticipated. He shudders when you touch him, when you threaten to consume him in your flame, your insatiable need. “I’d say we have a long night ahead of us.”

He’s quick to prop himself up on his elbows. He dare not blink and miss the way your lips curl around the head of his cock, the way your eyes burn into the very core of him as you take him fully. “I’m all yours, now, tomorrow—forever.” A breathy gasp leaves him, followed by the rolling of your name so sweetly from his tongue, through parted lips. Every day, for the rest of your days—a promise of pleasure.


End file.
